Every Journey Has A First Step
by Professor Authordude
Summary: Purity prequel. The meeting of Qui-Gon Jinn and Obi-Wan Kenobi at the Jedi Temple. Discontinued.
1. Prologue

Disclaimer- I own Dorjan Dubhgall, but not Qui-Gon. 

A/N- Welcome back to everyone who read Purity. For those who did not, it is not necessary to read that to understand this, is this is the prequel. This is basically my version of Jedi Apprentice, but different enough, I hope, not to be plagiarism. I hope you all enjoy.

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Every Journey Has A First Step

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"Padawan—"

"I'm your Padawan no longer, Qui-Gon Jinn. I am my own Master!"

"Dorjan, you can't—"

"Why do the Jedi fear the Dark Side? Because they don't understand it! How can you pass judgment on something you haven't explored? The Jedi claim to know the Force, but they can't until they have discovered all of its aspects!"

"Once the Dark Side has a hold on you, it won't let you go until it has destroyed you. You must see this, Dorjan!"

"Stop lecturing me! I am not your Padawan!"

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A/N- Sorry it is so short, although, to those of you who read Purity, I am sure you are not surprised. Unfortunately, this time there was no shirtless Obi-Wan to make up for the brevity. ALERT: Yes, Purity has eighteen-year-old Obi-Wan with no shirt. If that does not get readers, I have no idea what will.  Again, my apologies. Comments and constructive criticism welcome.


	2. Day 1

Disclaimer- I own only the people you do not recognize. The concept of the plot is vaguely mine. The concept of the bully is not mine, nor is the concept of the apprentice Turning to the Dark Side and Qui-Gon going on a guilt trip. This spin on it does belong to me, though.

A/N- This is the part everyone wants, I am sure. Day One in the life of Qui-Gon Jinn and Obi-Wan Kenobi. This takes place about a week after the prologue. I apologize for the (very long) wait, real life got in the way.

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Every Journey Has A First Step

Day One

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"talking"

'_private thoughts'_

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"Your fault it was not that Dorjan Turned, Qui-Gon. The Dark Side, enticing it can be. Blame yourself, you must not."

"Yes, Master." The Jedi was uncommonly subdued.

"Somehow, news of this has already spread through the Temple," Mace Windu warned him. "We don't know how, but almost everyone has heard. Any questions can be deflected to the Council."

Nodding without making eye contact, Qui-Gon bowed and left the room.

Yoda sighed. "Time, he will need to forgive himself. A new student, perhaps."

"He said he won't teach again," Mace said sadly. "He still thinks he caused Dorjan to Turn."

Adi Gallia spoke up. "I think he also believes that he missed the signs that Dorjan was going to Turn."

"What?" Mace asked in confusion. "Sure, the boy was headstrong, but there never was any indication that he was going to be tempted by the Dark Side."

"Right, both of you are. Qui-Gon's will it is not to train another. The will of the Force… have something to say about that it might."

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Lost in his thoughts, Qui-Gon rounded a corner and ran straight into a young boy carrying a stack of books, which naturally went flying.

"I— I'm sorry, Master Jinn," the Initiate said, ducking his head as his face flushed. "I wasn't looking where I was going."

'_There you go again. Clumsy.'_

Qui-Gon wondered where the thought had come from; he hoped it was not his. "No harm done, young one. The fault is partly mine."

The boy reddened further and said nothing as he began to pick up his belongings. Bending down to help, Qui-Gon asked, "Why do you need all these textbooks? I thought they were all downloadable to your datapad."

"They are," he replied softly, keeping his eyes fixed on the floor. "but Master Morathi says nothing can replace a real book, so we use them for his class."

"What does Master Morathi teach?" Qui-Gon prodded gently, for some inexplicable reason wanting the child to open up.

"Galactic History and Politics." He finally glanced up and smiled shyly. "So, of course there are five volumes."

"Naturally." The Master returned the smile, feeling the odd strain of his facial muscles for the first time in days.

As he stood up, he handed two volumes and the datapad to the boy. When their hands met, both felt an electric charge shiver up their arms and down their spines. Qui-Gon looked into a pair of blue-green eyes which were widened in surprise. "What's your name, young one?"

"Obi-Wan Kenobi, sir." Obi-Wan kept timid eye contact through his mop of red hair.

"How old are you, Obi-Wan?"

"Ten, sir."

"Of course you are." He tempered the words with another gentle smile. "In which case, I think we have an appointment with the Council. Here, let me take a few of those."

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"Master Jinn and Initiate Kenobi. Why come before us have you?"

The question was standard procedure, and said with a mysterious smile on the face of the small green Master.

Mace studied his longtime friend in surprise. Qui-Gon had entered the room carrying three large volumes in one arm, and his free hand was resting on the shoulder of a small, ginger-haired boy, who was also carrying volumes. What shocked— and greatly pleased— Mace was the faint smile on his friend's face. This was a far cry from the defeated, grieving Master who had left the same room just earlier that day.

"Honored Council," he bowed. "I wish to take Obi-Wan Kenobi as my Padawan Learner."

"Need our permission, do you?"

Qui-Gon's smile widened. "He's not eleven yet. And that's your rule, not mine."

"Hmm," Yoda gazed thoughtfully at the ten-year-old. "Wish this, do you, young Obi-Wan?"

Only years of Jedi training kept Qui-Gon from visibly starting. The intentions of the Force had been so clear to him that he had not thought to ask.

"Yes, Master Yoda," came Obi-Wan's steady voice. "This is what I wish."

"Then it is done. Bound together as Master and Padawan, you are. Learn from each other, you will. May the Force be with you."

They bowed in tandem, mindful of the heavy books in their arms, and left the Chamber.

"Good for each other, they will be."

"I think you're right."

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"Please excuse my Padawan's tardiness, Master Morathi. It was I who delayed him."

"No harm done." Morathi smiled slightly. _'It seems quite the opposite, in fact.'_

Ignoring the whispers and stares, Qui-Gon carefully handed Obi-Wan his books and ruffled his hair. "I'll see you later, Padawan."

"Thank you, Master."

Feeling happier than he had for a long time, Obi-Wan breezed through the lesson on Alderaan. His bubble was burst after class, however, when Shyam Valin knocked his books out of his arms so they scattered across the hallway. "Think you're so great no that you're a Padawan, Kenobi? How long do you think it will last before Master Jinn realizes how clumsy and stupid you are?"

Obi-Wan silently gathered his books, refusing to look at the older boy until he went to pick up his last volume. "Please give me my book back, Shyam."

The blond boy waited a moment before removing his foot from the tome. "You're pathetic, Kenobi. Master Jinn will realize it soon, and toss you out like the trash you are."

The redhead kept his gaze on the floor and hurried off, furiously blinking back tears. He did not completely disagree with Shyam.

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"Obi-Wan, you're early," Qui-Gon said as he heard the door open behind him. "I wasn't expecting you for— by the Force, what happened to your arm?"

" 'Saber practice," the ten-year-old said softly, looking at his feet and cradling his right arm. "I'm… kind of clumsy. Master Purvaja sent me back to my quarters, so I thought I'd start getting my belongings together."

"I arrived only a few moments ago. This was the room I stayed in when I was your age, I always liked the view." He crossed the few feet between them and knelt in front of his Padawan. "Let me see if I can do anything for that arm of yours. It looks painful."

"Stings a bit." Obi-Wan gave a one-shouldered shrug, but obediently extended his burnt arm.

"If this 'stings a bit,' I would hate to see your definition of what's truly painful." Qui-Gon smiled slightly as he wrapped bacta-soaked bandages around the fresh burn.

"That would be when my arm gets sheared off," Obi-Wan replied in a perfectly serious voice offset by an impish smile. "It is such an inconvenience when that happens."

The Master blinked at him in surprise for a moment, then laughed. Laughed until he was breathless and felt better than he had in a long time. "Oh, Force," he wiped his eyes and patted Obi-Wan's shoulder. "I haven't laughed like that in years. You, my young Padawan, are a master of understatement."

Obi-Wan grinned at him, and then experimentally bent his arm. "Thank you, Master. I… really don't like going to the Healers."

"Was this supposed to surprise me? I think it's written somewhere in your genetic codes. It's supposed to wear off sometime in your adulthood… I think my gene is mutated." Delighting in his new apprentice's laugh, he brushed the moppy red hair out of the boy's face. "As soon as you're relocated, I think a haircut is in order."

For some inexplicable reason, that remark caused Obi-Wan's face to light up. Before the ten-year-old could say anything, however, his comlink beeped. "Sorry," his face flushed as he switched it on. "Yes, Healer Althea?"

'_Why in the galaxy is a Healer calling him? And how did he know it was her?'_

"Not today" Obi-Wan replied cheerfully. "My Master already took care of it."

The person on the other end said something Qui-Gon could not understand from the distance.

"Mm-hmm… earlier today… you do?... alright." He handed over the comlink. "Healer Althea wants to talk to you, Master. I'll go get my stuff."

"That's fine… hello?"

"Well, if it isn't Qui-Gon Jinn. Yours is a voice I still hear whining and complaining in my sleep."

"Jedi do not whine, Althea, and only rarely complain," he told her mock-sternly, smiling.

"A little-known fact… the_ real_ reason you're known as a rebel."

"Don't tell anyone, I have a reputation to maintain."

"Your secret's safe with me. But as fun as teasing you is, I wanted to talk to you about your new Padawan." Her voice lost its bantering tone. "He gets injured in his lightsaber class _every day_. I've taken to calling because he doesn't like to come down unless it's really serious. I don't blame him; he spends too much time here."

"How long has this been going on?"

"Eight months, ever since he got moved into Master Purvaja's class. Everyone there is a year or two older than him. He always chalks it up to being clumsy, but I find that highly unlikely."

"He doesn't strike me as remotely clumsy… What can I do?"

She sighed. "This has been a matter of concern for me since it began, but as a Healer I cannot get involved in the cause of the injuries. I asked Master Purvaja, but she didn't find it to be a matter of concern. Which is ridiculous. A ten-year-old boy has been getting injured in her class for months, that causes me concern. But she doesn't have to listen to me, and hasn't. You're his Master..."

"And she'd have to listen to me."

"Yes, exactly. Keep an eye on him, he's a good kid."

"He is, isn't he? It's taken me a surprisingly short amount of time to discover this."

"Qui-Gon, there's one more thing. I shouldn't be telling you this, but," he voice dropped. "There's a boy named Shyam Valin in most of Obi-Wan's classes, who for whatever reason strongly dislikes Obi-Wan."

"You think he might have something to do with my Padawan's injuries?"

"I have no proof, only my instincts telling me he is involved."

"Thank you for the warning. As Jedi are taught to trust their instincts, I'll trust yours. May the Force be with you, Althea. I'm going to get my Padawan settled."

"You do that. And make sure to be in within the week for your annual exam!" she said cheerfully, signing off.

"Sneaky," Qui-Gon muttered, then looked around for his apprentice. "Do you need a hand, Obi-Wan?"

"Thank you, Master, but I think I have everything." He wondered exactly what his Master thought he needed help with. All he'd had to pack were his extra clothes, toothbrush, and a very few personal things. He accepted the comlink back and stowed it away on his belt. "What did Healer Althea want?" he asked, immediately regretting his question. It was hardly his place to interrogate his Master.

"To remind me about my annual exam. She knows I try to escape them whenever possible. I've tried to tell her it's in my DNA, but she just won't listen." He smiled, putting Obi-Wan at ease. "What about your history books?"

"I forgot about them," the ten-year-old said sheepishly.

"I don't blame you there. Here, you take the things you have, and I'll get your books. You carry them around enough as it is." He hefted the pile of texts and remarked. "You know, you're going to have very large biceps by the time you're finished with Morathi's class. The girls will be falling at your feet."

Obi-Wan laughed at that, blushing a little in the way natural for ten-year-old boys when girls are mentioned. "Well sure, with huge biceps, I can beat just about anyone while sparring, girls included."

He held the door open for his chuckling Master, who was surprised by the thoughtful gesture which Obi-Wan seemed to do without giving a second thought. _'I hope you never cease to surprise me, my Padawan. Somehow, I don't think you will.'_

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"…like the three parts of this braid, Padawan, Master, and the Force are bound together. May you always remember this connection in your wanderings. Will you uphold the Jedi Code, work to help others, and obey your Master?"

"I will."

"Then I will guide you on your journey, Obi-Wan Kenobi, for as long as it is within my power to do so. You are my Padawan, and none may truly separate us."

The formal ritual was done in the privacy of Qui-Gon's— of _their— _quarters and, for the first time he could remember in ages, Obi-Wan felt he belonged. His braid, with it's section of his Master's hair and trailing down his right shoulder, would always remind him that _someone_ wanted him. He would never forget it.

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A/N- Again, I apologize for the wait. The braiding was not originally included in the story at all, so I added it. It's basically the part everyone wants to read. I hope to have the next part up soon, and as always, constructive criticism welcome unless it is complaining about the delay in chapters.


	3. Day 2

Disclaimer- I own Shyam and his cronies, Dorjan, Purvaja, Althea, Alastair, Holden, and Jenell. Everyone else belongs to George Lucas.

A/N- This takes place the day after the previous chapter. We learn a little more about why Obi-Wan is so shy, the nickname is born, and mush happens. Sorry if I didn't make this clear in the last chapter, but the reason Qui-Gon made Obi-Wan his Padawan so quickly is because he felt it was the will of the Force. Unlike in Jude Watson's series, he follows the prompting of the Force. Not to mention, who could resist cute little ten-year-old Obi-Wan? Enjoy.

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Every Journey Has A First Step

Day Two

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"Qui-Gon, what a pleasant surprise!" Jenell said, looking up from the papers she was grading and smiling. They had been friends for decades, and she therefore felt comfortable enough around him to say, "My condolences on Dorjan. That's a hard thing."

Her tall friend only nodded, and she continued in a more light-hearted manner. "So, what

brings you to my corner of the Temple?"

"My new Padawan." The change in his demeanor was immediate.

"Obi-Wan," she correctly deduced. "Good. That child needs someone to look after him. My congratulations."

"Thank you," he responded to her sincerity, but wondered what prompted her remarks. "Why do you say Obi-Wan needs looking after?"

"Do you remember what I teach, Qui-Gon?"

"Last I remember it was Biochemistry and Physiology."

"And it still is."

Qui-Gon blinked at her in shock. "But Obi-Wan's only ten!"

"And extremely bright. He's ahead of his age-mates in every class, and has top marks in all of them. But— this is the baffling part— he has almost no self-esteem. He finds himself 'clumsy and slow,' and those are his exact words."

"Doesn't he have any friends his age?"

"Not to my knowledge, he's just so quiet. There was one boy, Alastair, who was in a few of his classes and looked after him, but he became Holden's Padawan a few months ago and any outgoing tendencies Obi-Wan had developed vanished. His best friend is his weighty reading material."

Qui-Gon frowned. His new Padawan struck him as cripplingly shy, but not antisocial. What Althea told him the day before came to the front of his mind. "Jenell, yesterday I was talking to Althea, and she mentioned a boy named Shyam Valin. Do you know anything about him?"

"Certainly, he's in my class too. And failing. He's not unintelligent, though nowhere near as bright as Obi-Wan, but hardly ever does his work. He and his little gang of friends are for some reason thought of as the standard of 'cool,' so basically all Initiates look up to them and try to conform to their example."

"Of being cruel to shy, smart people?" he guessed.

Jenell looked warily at her friend. She knew that tone, which meant his temper—a rare thing in itself—was simmering just below the surface. _'I never guessed he would bond so quickly with Obi-Wan… and I don't think he did either.' _"Precisely. When Obi-Wan was younger, he had a friend called Nyoka, but when Shyam and the other boys wanted him to be their friend, he, well…"

"Abandoned Obi-Wan without a backwards glance."

There was more suppressed rage in the Jedi's voice than before, and Jenell decided to try to diffuse some of it. "And who ever said you're not gifted with the Unifying Force?" When that failed to provoke a smile or anything similar, she continued more somberly. "In all seriousness, yes, that is what happened. Now it's gotten a bit out of hand, where people are afraid to be seen with Obi-Wan in case Shyam and company decide to turn on them. And the 'saber instructor, Purvaja, doesn't help any. Blatantly favors the lot of them, encouraging them. It needs to stop."

"And I'm just the one to stop it?"

"My, you're on a roll today, aren't you? Yes, certainly. Althea, Morathi, I can't do anything about it without her accusing us of favoritism…"

"You're speaking from experience, I take it."

"Four for four. You can raise as big a stink as you want. And I would suggest it. Your Padawan needs to know somebody cares about him, likes him for who he is. He's opened up a little to Althea…"

"Meaning he'll talk to her."

"Are you keeping track of this? Other than to her, he doesn't speak any more than is necessary. Which is a shame, because he has to be pretty special to make you cave so easily."

"Pardon me?"

"I am perfectly aware that you never intended to teach again, oh stubborn one. You accepted Obi-Wan after knowing him for all of three minutes, after swearing 'No more Padawans.' Not only that, but you already like him. I'd say he has to be pretty special."

"It was the will of the Force that made me accept him, and his own nature that made me like him. The Force did me a great service yesterday."

"You and he both. Obi-Wan is in his lightsaber class right now, go watch and see what you find."

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"Pathetic as usual, Kenobi." Shyam shook his head. "It baffles me how someone so clumsy was chosen by the likes of Master Jinn. He must merely pity you."

Schooling his anger into submission for the record third time that day, Qui-Gon prepared to intervene. To his surprise, Obi-Wan's steady voice answered the older boy. "You apparently have very little respect for my Master if you think he would take on such a large commitment out of pity."

'_That's telling him, Obi-Wan.' _They had not yet developed their bond enough to communicate telepathically, so Qui-Gon could only encourage his Padawan to himself.

Shyam was silent for a moment, looking down at the redhead in anger, then without warning plowed his fist into Obi-Wan's face. "You think you're so much better than the rest of us, Kenobi, but Master Jinn will toss you back once he realizes how pathetic you are."

As the blond boy stalked off, the instructor of the lightsaber class walked over. "Again, Padawan Kenobi?" The title was almost a sneer as she observed the already purpling bruise around his eye. "Go collect your books and head back to your quarters."

'_Didn't she see what caused the bruise?' _Qui-Gon wondered as he headed down the stairs to meet his Padawan. _'She's acting like it's Obi-Wan's fault.'_

Obi-Wan had sensed his Master's presence there during the entire confrontation, and cast his face down in shame rather than face his hero. "I'm sorry, Master," he whispered in a quiet, cracked voice.

Qui-Gon knelt in front of him gently his chin up so their eyes met. "Sorry for what, Little One?" The nickname was born in that moment as he looked into the tear-filled eyes of his young Padawan.

"I'm clumsy… and slow… and I never do anything right." Despite his best efforts, a tear rolled down his face. "I should have told you before… but I was afraid you wouldn't want me."

Gently, the tall Jedi wiped the tear track from the uninjured side of the ten-year-old's face. "Little One, you're hardly clumsy, or slow, or anything else you said. You are the brightest, most gifted person I know." He hugged Obi-Wan to his chest. "It is the will of the Force that you are my Padawan, and I will never give you up."

He rubbed the trembling boy's back until he had calmed, then asked, "How long has this been going on, Obi-Wan?"

"Two years," came the soft voice muffled by his tunic. "Ever since I got moved into one of his classes. He's never liked me, I don't know why."

"He's jealous of you, Little One."

"Why would Shyam ever be jealous of me?" Obi-Wan's voice rose in distress. "He has everything! People like him, and—"

Qui-Gon stroked one hand through the soft, spiky hair. "He feels threatened because you're younger, but still so much brighter and more dedicated than he is. He saw you as a threat, and now he's jealous because you've been chosen and he hasn't."

"But he's right about me! I am slow and clumsy—"

"No, you're not," he repeated patiently, determined to say it until it made its way home. "But you've been hearing it for so long that you accept it as the truth. But people do like you, Little One. I talked to some of your teachers. They like you. I like you."

"I don't like me," Obi-Wan admitted softly, his face still pressed into his Master's tunic.

"I know you don't." Qui-Gon pulled back slightly and kissed his forehead. "But I'm going to change that. Now, I believe we have an appointment with Althea, and I'll be having a little talk with Master Purvaja tomorrow."

"We?"

"Of course, you're stuck with me for at least the next ten years. Besides, I have to get the beastly checkup sometime."

An endearingly shy smile crept onto the ten-year-old's face, which the tall Jedi returned. Ruffling the short-cropped hair, he stood and headed to the Healer's with his Padawan. _'We'll get through this, Force willing, and Obi-Wan will be the stronger for it.'_ His thoughts returned to the end of his conversation with Jenell.

"…**and ever since then, I think he's gone out of his way to keep to himself."**

"**But Jenell, I knew him barely three minutes before he agreed to be my Padawan."**

"**Then he trusts you, my friend. And trust coming from Obi-Wan means a great deal. He gives it sparingly."**

Qui-Gon mused over these words, and made a silent vow. _'Never will I betray the trust you put in me. I promise, Padawan.'_

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**NOTE: THIS STORY HAS BEEN DISCONTINUED. I'VE BEEN OUT OF THE FANDOM FOR SIX YEARS. THANKS FOR READING.**


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